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Show Why We Cry Butch and Fenn Stories 133 little kids down by the swings and those who were playing tennis, seem to be jumping up and down, screaming. The Holladay team is squirming, their coach is pacing, their batboy runs in little circles. Fenn is the only person in the world standing still in all this roaring noise. Butch is three feet off the ground in the backstop fence. Mrs. Fenn is standing, clapping. When I see old coach Gurber jumping on the bleachers, waving his hat, and hollering, I have to sit down. The tumult lasts four or five minutes. It stops the game. In fact, the tumult never really stops. Even when the next two hitters strike out, and we go into extra innings, there is a general subsurface roar that I've never heard before. Fenn has stopped the park. Even kids who were in trees on the other side of the bandstand have pressed into the out-of-play fence and are watching the game. In the seventh, we have the trouble. Dickey walks one guy. I give him third base on a fielder's choice, and he scores on a flyout to center. I'm up in the bottom of the inning and I'm scared. All I want is to get on base. I'm willing to put my head in front of the ball, just so I don't strike out, which I've done twice already- In the on-deck circle, I see that the afternoon has fallen apart, the clouds have come up as if to see me go down swinging, and I find myself wishing for rain. The air thickens. After Lopez grounds out to the pitcher, I step up. Grace is with me, for |
